Inkblot
by MouseMaster42
Summary: Discontinued due to plot and immaturity issues with the possibility of a reboot in the future. I'm very sorry. A general starts a rebellion that ends in exile for Marth, Roy, and a young female archer. Love triangles galore.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer(s): I do not own Marth or Roy, or any other SSBB/Fire Emblem names (I'll try and specify as they pop up…); those all belong to Nintendo. I do, however, own Art the Archer and General Rein. This takes place in the Fire Emblem universe, but it's easy to catch on even if you've never played that game. I've placed it in the SSBB category because in the Fire Emblem category, Marth and Roy don't know each other and I think SSBB fans will find this story more entertaining than FE people (no offense to them). I hope you enjoy. **

**Some things to know so you don't get confused:**

**Marth is the prince of Altea. Roy is the youngest general in Marth's army. These two don't get along, but they respect each other (sort of…). **

**Art (one of my OCs) is a young woman (I haven't decided exactly how old they all are) who is currently training under General Roy's command, but their styles aren't compatible with each other, so she isn't learning much. She vaguely knows Prince Marth, but up until this point they have barely spoken.**

**Capiche? Let me know if anything else needs explaining. :) I hope you enjoy it.**

**Chapter 1**

Art ran out of the fencing room, brushing her auburn hair out of her eyes. She had been practicing all day and STILL her instructor, General Roy, continued to run her though the swordplay techniques. If one wanted to become an archer, then why did they need to learn how to parry?

Besides, her slim figure wasn't meant for swordplay. She simply didn't have the brawn to back up her quick strokes.

She stopped by the armory and picked up her bow, _Windfeather._ Its light weight felt soothing in her hand. The wood was so worn that it was smooth. Her quiver was already around her shoulders. Some shooting would soothe her mind and make it easier for her to concentrate, should the need for concentration arise.

Art stepped out onto the grass of the courtyard. The targets were on the other side. The red epicenter was nearly impossible to see at this distance, but that didn't matter. She pulled out an arrow confidently, nocking it against the bowstring.

She let it fly. It cut through the air before firmly embedding itself into the middle of the tiny red circle.

"That was an impressive shot," a quiet, calm voice said behind her.

She whirled around, biting back a yelp.

A familiar adolescent stood before her. He was quite a few inches taller, and clothed in spectacular blue fabrics with the crown of Altea catching the sunlight. He would have been very impressive and intimidating, had it not been for the softness of his small smile or the boyish light that lingered in his cobalt eyes.

"Your Highness!" Art breathed. "Don't startle me like that! I could have accidentally shot someone!"

He laughed lightly; a musical sound that carried through the entire castle. "You, miss? Not likely. I don't think I can recall ever seeing someone so young with such keen eyes and such a light touch as yourself."

"If my eyes are so_ keen _why can't I block a stab?" Art questioned, still in a foul mood.

"Because you are a girl," Prince Marth said simply.

Art opened her mouth to protest, but his eyes flared, effectively cutting her off.

"Not for the reasons you think," he said. "Girls were never meant to 'block stabs.' They were meant to cut people with sharp words, not steel."

"So you think I should become a diplomat?" Art snapped, pulling out a second arrow and shooting another perfect shot.

Marth's hand gently closed around her wrist, pulling it away from the quiver. "Perhaps."

Art was surprised by the gesture. The prince had always remained carefully neutral around her, often avoiding touch whenever possible.

"Highness…?" she asked, waiting for him to let go of her hand. "What are you…?"

He released her wrist, and Art made sure to avoid eye contact, averting her fiery green eyes to the ground and inwardly cursing herself for blushing.

"It's funny," the prince sighed. "You are almost as old as I…"

"Two years younger," Art corrected before she could stop herself.

The side of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "As you say. Two years older. And yet your aim is far better than mine."

"Well…I suppose," Art frowned. Then she extended her bow to Marth hesitantly. "But do you know for sure?"

He looked startled by her gesture, but then he took the bow, his slim fingers wrapping around its frame.

"_Windfeather,_" he murmured quietly. Art was surprised; she didn't think he would know the name.

"May I?" he asked. Art was jerked out of her contemplation to see the prince looking at her expectantly. She hastily handed him an arrow, feeling her face flush again.

He nocked the arrow hesitantly, and then pulled it up to shoot several times, only to release tension from the sting to adjust something. It took Art a moment to realize that she had never actually seen Marth display any interest in archery. The only times she saw him other than the rare times when he sought her out, as he obviously had done now, he was either reading, fencing, or conversing with some of the higher-ups of society.

"You _have_ shot a bow and arrow before, right…?" she questioned a little nervously.

"Yes." He smiled briefly and the tension that she had glimpsed disappeared. He continued, saying, "It would really be a pity if I accidentally injured someone while using your bow." He adjusted his aim again, then exhaled sharply just as he released the arrow. It flew across the courtyard and buried itself below hers, just outside the red circle.

"There, you see?" he said pointedly. "You are obviously the better shot."

Art frowned. "You missed on purpose," she accused. She considered herself something of an expert with the bow, but even a novice could tell that when Marth had exhaled, his aim had been botched.

"I did no such thing," Marth sighed wearily as he passed her the bow back. "And you would do well to remember who I am, and that it is probably not in your best interest to accuse me of something that _I_ said I did not do. Whose word do you think will hold up better?"

Art repressed the urge to moan. It was easy to see at times why Marth was sometimes jokingly called the 'ice-prince.' She glared at him pointedly. She may not have the authority to say what she was thinking, but she could make sure that the prince knew anyway.

"Did you have a reason for interrupting my training?" she asked coldly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." His voice was cool. Art instantly regretted making him like this. He had started off as kind as she had ever seen him, but the ice-prince was definitely back.

"Although you seemed to be getting along fine with the bow on your own," Marth continued, a slightly ironic tone in his voice, "I couldn't help noticing your pathetic attempts to parry in the training room with your trainer, General Roy."

Art bit back the comment that sprung to her tongue. If it was anyone _but_ the man standing before her…

"And thus it occurred to me that perhaps you were not being taught in the correct way," he went on smoothly. "And so I asked myself, 'what would happen if she was to be trained in the _right _way?'"

"And what did you answer yourself?" Art asked, making sure to convey as much of her frustrated emotion into this simple question as possible.

"The thought occurred to me that _if_ you were properly trained, then I would have a very capable soldier on my hands. One who excelled at both swordplay _and_ archery; a valuable combination."

"Please, Your Highness, get to the point," Art urged. "I have other things that need doing today."

"As do I," Marth snapped icily. "I was simply wondering if you would consider a different method of training, with a somewhat more…well suited tutor. Someone who I believe fights in the same style as yourself."

"What?" Art glanced up at him curiously. "But I'm already squiring under General Roy. Wouldn't he be upset if I were transferred out of his care?"

"You forget your place," Marth said coolly. It sounded like he had just stopped himself from saying 'again.' "If_ I_ command it, it shall be done."

"My apologies," Art muttered grumpily, then remembered to tack on a "Highness," at the last moment.

Marth shrugged, showing that he accepted the apology. "I was merely thinking that _my_ fighting style might be more suited to your own, and that it might be more productive if I attempted to train you. It would be an exercise for both of us."

Art's hands flew to her mouth. "What are you saying?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Marth asked a little testily. "I would like to try training you myself, and see if that improves your talent at all."

Art's face paled. The prince had never offered anything like this to anyone. Art had been grateful when she had been assigned to General Roy as a squire, even though they were less than a year apart in age. But soon she had found that the General's fighting style relied on strength and confidence; two things that Art was not good a displaying. In truth, she had been a little concerned recently that Roy was eventually going to give up on her, and now the prince of Altea was offering her another chance.

"It's a simple yes or not question, Art," Marth pointed out.

"Well, yes. Of course yes…" Art said dazedly.

"Then it is settled," the prince said. "Meet me tomorrow, here in the courtyard, at dawn. I shall speak to General Roy and arrange your absence." He turned to leave, but paused after taking a few steps.

"Highness?" Art asked, fiddling anxiously with the nocking point on her bow.

Marth shot her a smile. "Meet me here tomorrow," he repeated, and then turned around and walked out of the courtyard, the sun shining off of his circlet and his blue hair.

******Don't fret, Roy-fans. He'll pop up in the next chapter. No worries. ;)**

**This is going to be a fairly long story, and I already have the next few chapters written. If people express an interest, I'll be able to update pretty quickly. But I won't know if you like it or not if you don't review, so please press the magic blue button and tell me what you think. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Oi vey…I need to think of a more creative way to do this…Marth and Roy don't belong to me, cue heavy sigh. I wish they did. Falchion doesn't belong to me either. On the other hand, Art IS mine. No stealing. ;) **

**Things to know:**

** You should already know this if you're insanely into SSBB, but Marth has a sword named Falchion—AKA the sword of light. I did some research and it's actually this "divine blade" thingy that killed a big dragon a long time ago and has been passed through the male members of his family. Basically, it's an awesome sword.**

** I mention Grust in this chapter, so I should probably explain that too: From what I could gather, Altea (Marth's country) is sort of in the center of a small-ish continent called Arachnea. Grust and another country named Gra border Altea, and they both ganged up to attack it at one point, killing Marth's father. Talys is an island nation off of Arachnea, and I believe I mention that name at some point too…I hope that makes sense. I just took a bunch of FE stuff because I was too lazy to come up with decent names on my own. Sorry….**

** Thanks to **_**bob**_** and_ nobody _for the positive reviews, and thanks to _secret stash_ for telling me how to make my summary better. In answer to**_** Minn**_**'s question: Yes, Roy and Marth are from different universes. That's why this is posted in the SSBB section instead of Fire Emblem, because I thought it would be fun to create a story with both of them in it. I think Roy is actually a prince or something too, but when I looked at the characters I decided to make him a general just for the sake of my plot. I hope that makes sense…**

**And with that long ramble, I give you Chapter 2!**

**Chapter 2**

Art fiddled with _Windfeather's_ string; trying hard not to look at the enraged teenager in front of her.

"So now I'm just supposed to _let you go?_" General Roy asked, angrily running a hand through his bright red hair. "What give him the authority…?"

Art suddenly looked up, her green eyes blazing. "He's our king! We obey him!"

Roy scowled. "Where do you get these sudden bursts of loyalty? When you speak to him you barely remember to address him by his title, and now you're giving me grief because I am frustrated by his actions!"

"I don't know!" Art shouted back. "It's our duty to obey him, is it not? You're no better; I've heard you speak with him."

"Art," Roy moaned. "You can't do this sort of thing just like that. Perhaps you still aren't aware of all of the customs here. I mean, you came from a faraway place, and we found you outside, wandering around like a blind child…"

"Who is this _'we'_?" Art demanded. "You were just as young as I was then!" Her hands tightened on the bow's back. "And you know it doesn't matter where I came from; I have no memories of that place! I live _here._ Here is all I know._ This_ is my home, I know the rules, and I obey _my_ king!"

"But—" Roy started.

A hand suddenly closed on Art's shoulder. She stiffened, and a stiletto blade snapped into her hand from a wrist sheath strapped around her arm.

"I said the conversation was _closed,_ General," said an icy voice. "There's no need to terrorize her over _my_ opinion. It was my decision, not hers. Leave her be."

Roy flushed and reluctantly ducked his head.

"And as for you," the prince's voice too on an almost playful tone as he gently pried the knife out of Art's hand. "Very fast reflexes; well done. Although I _would_ prefer if it if you learned to recognize my touch so as not to knife me in the future."

"I wouldn't have," Art mumbled self-consciously.

"You never know. I've never given you the chance." Marth's voice was kind and soft. The iciness from a moment ago was gone.

"No, Your Highness," Art sighed. "Nor would I want one." She looked down at the flagstone floor to hide her blush, still tightly clutching the bow in her hand.

"Could you possibly give us some privacy?" the prince asked Roy, who looked like he was about to start shouting before he changed his mind, bowed stiffly, and stalked away. He looked furious.

"Highness, it isn't noon yet." Art's light fell over her eyes as she remained looking at the ground. Marth's hand still rested lightly on her shoulder. "Don't you have other matters to attend to?"

He chuckled. "Yes and no."

"What do you mean?" Art asked curiously.

"Yes, I probably do have things that I should do today, but they can all wait. Meanwhile, I just heard something that distresses me."

"What could that be, Highness?" Art replied dutifully, repeating the questions that she was obviously supposed to ask. She was careful not to turn around; she didn't trust her face.

"You were found outside the castle?" he asked quietly. "You really have no memories of where you came from?"

Art nodded wordlessly. She remembered nothing. Some said that she was from the lands of Grust; the former enemy of Altea, but she had no idea.

"I've heard the rumors, of course," the prince continued. "But I didn't know that they could be true."

She bit her lip. "Who's to say, Highness?"

Marth sighed, finally sensing that this was a delicate subject. "Is there anything you wish to say before we start? Obviously, we shall be starting a bit early today. I don't have anything else I wish to do at the moment. Do you have any conflicts of interest?"

"None, Your Highness," Art murmured. "Of course we can start now."

"Good." He passed her the stiletto knife back and turned to walk into the central courtyard.

It was then, after storing the knife in her hidden wrist sheath, did Art finally permit herself to turn around. Marth was wearing a royal blue cloak over a black tunic and leggings, much like her own monochromatic clothing of the day. But the overall effect on him was different. Marth's dark clothing made his already pale skin look white, and his blue hair and eyes seemed to stand out more than usual; whereas when Art wore dark colors, it accented her hair and made her green eyes glow.

Marth stopped in the courtyard, same as yesterday. He turned to face Art, who quickened her pace so as to not keep him waiting.

"Now," he said quietly, his sharp voice barely traveling to where Art stood, several yards away. "I'm just going to have you run some tests today, so that I might get a feel for your ability."

Art nodded. Roy had done the same thing the first day she had been assigned to him.

"What is your weapon of choice at hand-to-hand combat?" Marth asked.

Art shrugged. "Frankly, Highness, I'm not much good with anything. Something light, I suppose."

"Would a rapier do?"

Art nodded. "And my knife."

"Then go fetch one and meet me back here." Marth's eyes were bright and a slight smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Then we shall see how good you really are."

Art ran off and was back in less than five minutes with a well balanced rapier in her right hand.

"Alright, Highness. I have my weapon. What now?"

Marth stood up from a stone bench he had been sitting on. In a sudden movement, he threw back his cloak to reveal Falchion, the sword of light.

Art gasped and nearly dropped the rapier.

"_Highness!_" she yelled. "I can't go against _you!_ It wouldn't be right!"

"Well then," Marth took off the overlong cloak and placed it next to his book. "As your prince I command you to at least try. We shall see how this goes, alright?"

"I don't think I can…"

"Just try." Marth smiled encouragingly. He raised Falchion in a sort of salute, and then lunged.

Art danced out of the way. It was the only thing she could do. Both Marth and his weapon were stronger than her. As he turned around to face her again, she struck: quick jabs with the dagger and the rapier that were in turn easily deflected.

They leapt away from each other.

"You're holding back!" Marth snapped, not the least out of breath. "Surely you can do better than this!"

"I can't fight you, Highness!" Art protested, breathing heavily. "You are my prince! I can't attack you!"

The prince thought about it. "Is there any way I could get you to really come at me?"

"I don't know…," Art looked away uncomfortably. "I suppose if I were to become angry enough I would be able to."

"And what could I do to make you angry?" he asked with a slight grin.

Art gaped at him. "I—_what?_"

Marth raised an eyebrow patronizingly until she was able to formulate an answer.

"Um…" she mumbled. "Do something undignified, I suppose?"—Marth's grin turned to a scowl—"Well I'm sorry!" she snapped, "I can't think of anything else!"

The prince stepped out of range of her sword as she swung widely and smiled thoughtfully to himself. "Something undignified? What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, Your Highness!" Art groaned. "I can't think!"

He rocked his weight back and forth, obviously thinking about something. Suddenly he stepped forward, knocking her sword out of the way with the back of his hand, and kissed her.

Art froze.

She felt the stiletto dagger slip out of her hand. She felt that she should be feeling something different at a time like this, but she was too startled to think clearly. All she could think of was that this was _Marth_, and he was _kissing_ her.

And then he was gone, standing lithely about a yard away as if nothing had happened.

"Are you suitably vexed now?" he asked calmly, not looking at all chided or embarrassed.

Art couldn't speak.

"I am sorry," he said quickly, misinterpreting her silence. "I didn't mean to offend you. You asked for something undignified, and there it is. Now will you run with that or not?"

Something inside Art snapped at his words. They were too nonchalant; as if what he had done hadn't been special or different for him in any way. Like it did it all the time. Like he had taken the magic away from it.

Art's eyes narrowed as she glowered at the prince, her face still flushed a bright red. She brought her slim sword up again.

"Good," Marth praised.

**AN: Sorry, I have to end it there. T.T I have a pile of junk I've been putting off doing for ages. Sorry; I'll update soon, I swear!**

**About this chapter: Once again, I apologize to all the Roy-people who are like "Wait…he was barely there!" I swear he'll pop up more permanently in the next chapter, and I'll probably throw some fluff in as well. Something to look forward to, right?**

**The plot starts picking up soon too, (as well as the whole love triangle issue...) so don't stop reading just because Marth kissed her. It's far from over. ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Almost forgot-DISCLAIMER!: Marth, Roy, Falchion, and Altea do not belong to the humble Mouse Master. If they did, I would not be here right now, I would be doing far cooler things, probably on a Pegasus. Art is my OC, so therefore DOES belong to me. Woot (does anyone even know what that even stands for?)!**

**Thanks again to **_**nobody **_**and **_**YeahOkay**_** for the kind reviews. Keep it up! Your reviews made me all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks to **_**Secret Stash**_** for the review and yes; I will be introducing four (I think…?) more Fire Emblem characters, and yes, I like the coming fight scene very much. :) And another thanks to **_**Minn**_**; again, you were right on. Marth IS engaged (betrothed? I'm not sure) to the princess of Talys: Cadea, but I don't like her very much (She keeps getting pwned by enemy archers. T.T Shows my lack of skill at FE that I can't keep her out of the way. ;P I'm still suck on level 10) and therefore I don't mention her at all in this thing (sorry…). I'll explain all of that later…And with the whole class thing that you brought up: I **_**did**_** think of that, but in real life she**_** would**_** be able to master both classes, and if she didn't know how to use a sword than she and Marth would have basically nothing in common. I'm using FE characters, but I'm writing in the SSBB category so that I don't have to stick exactly to the types of Fire Emblem, I hope that made sense. It's totally awesome that you know so much about that series though; I thought I was the only one who still played those (apparently not XD). Thank you all for the reviews and please keep it up! Questions are always appreciated!**

**~EDIT!~ A HUGE (HUGE!) thanks to _Diagon the Uber Lord of Lawlz_ who pointed out that I screwed up the rapier thing. XD I've never used a rapier before. Thank you SO much for pointing that out! (I'm such a sword noob...) I think I fixed it all. Let me know if anything slipped through. **

**For once, there's nothing that I have to explain: if you've read the previous chapters everything in this one should make sense. Yay!**

**Chapter 3**

With a sudden roar, Art flew forwards, snatching her fallen dagger from the ground as she ran.

Marth smiled in anticipation, registered Art's wrist snapping forward, and dove out of the way of the thrown knife. Thrown off balance for a moment, he barely registered Art suddenly appearing behind him.

_How did she move so quickly?_ Marth thought as he tried to turn around to react, but the side of her rapier had already done its damage, nicking his shoulder with a clumsy stab

Marth swung wildly as he collapsed to his knees, buying some time as she had to jump out of the way. He stood up awkwardly after a moment, keeping his free hand pressed against the wound. From what he could tell, it wasn't deep and would scab over soon, but it hurt. How had she moved fast enough to get behind him like that?

And suddenly, she danced behind him again, scoring three more light hits that mostly glanced off but still hurt. Marth thought he nicked her arm as she flew away, but he wasn't sure. It certainly didn't seem to slow her down.

With a scream, Art threw herself at him again; coming from the front this time instead of the back. Marth raised his sword, expecting some sort of feint-attack combination, but her it wasn't her sword that was suddenly flying at his face; it was her boot.

Not prepared for it, Marth was kicked to the ground, and he dropped Falchion as his hands automatically flung themselves out to catch him.

And then Art was standing over him, her green eyes blazing. There was blood trickling down her left sleeve from a very small cut.

"Yield," she hissed, holding the dagger in bloody fingers.

Marth couldn't suppress a small smile. Was Roy ever to provoke this type of reaction from her? But all the same, he wasn't one to give up that easily. "No," he said playfully, watching her reaction.

"_What?_" Confusion flashed across her face for a fraction of a second, and in that one moment Marth leapt to his feet, wrenched the stiletto knife from her hand, grabbed her arm and used to spin her around so that she was facing away from him. Now he stood behind her, holding her shoulder with one and her own knife with the other; keeping the blade a few inches from her neck.

"You yield," he said coolly.

Art scowled (although the prince couldn't see it) and suddenly ducked out of his grasp, making a dash for her sword, which was lying in the grass. She made it there without Marth interfering.

Confused again, she turned around to face him. For a moment she thought he was crying, but that thought was quickly dismissed. She realized after a more careful look that he was laughing quietly to himself.

"Are you alright, Your Highness?" she asked hesitantly, vaguely remembering that she had slashed him a few times in her blind attacks.

"Quite alright, thank you." He was smiling confidently at her now. "Nothing that won't heal anyway." He rolled his injured shoulder and then controlled a grimace of pain into some sort of smirk. "You passed my test with flying colors, by the way."

Art's face fell as she realized that she _had_ hurt him; possibly quite badly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Would you like to break so that you might get yourself bandaged?"

"Ridiculous," he answered quickly. "You act like I am a silly child that needs pampering. I've had worse, as you well know. Look,"—he showed her his bloody sleeve—"It's already stopping." He smirked again. "Don't think you've won yet; I was only testing you. The prince of Altea is not beaten that easily, you know."

Art could tell that he was only rambling to stop her from seeing the extent of her damage. "I hurt you." She sounded a little surprised.

"Haven't you ever hurt someone before?" the prince asked curiously, pressing a hand to his side again.

"Not a _prince._"

He laughed, but Art sensed that it was somewhat strained. "And what makes me so different from everyone else? We all bleed the same, don't we?"

"Have you ever hurt a _girl_ before?" she asked simply.

"That's different," he snapped. "Now come here and let me see your arm."

She obeyed reluctantly and allowed him to roll up her sleeve to see the small cut he had made. In doing so he revealed her forearm. It was her left arm, the one that held the bow when she shot. There were a number of scars crisscrossing across the pale skin, creating a sort of feathery texture.

"What are these?" Marth asked quietly, tracing one of the lines with a cold finger. After a moment, his hand moved up to the cut and he checked to make sure that it had stopped bleeding.

"Oh," Art glanced at the scars. "They're from the bow. Sometimes the bowstring or the fletching catches and breaks the skin. It's nothing to worry about, Highness. It doesn't hurt at all."

"It_ is_ something to worry about," Marth said. "Why don't you wear an arm guard or something?"

"Because I don't like the feel of it," Art snapped. "And if these healed scars are something to worry about, then those cuts on your back must be something dire! Please, let someone bandage them!"

Marth craned his neck to try and examine the damage. "They aren't that bad."

"Please?" Art asked.

He sighed. "Very well. We shall retire for the day."

Art bowed. "Thank you, Highness."

Marth acknowledged the bow with a nod and walked swiftly back to the bench to retrieve his cloak, which he swung over his shoulders to hide his back before she could see how bad the cuts had bled. Then he walked off without another word, leaving Art in the courtyard.

The moment he was gone, a familiar teen appeared out of a corridor and crossed the courtyard to where Art was standing, the sun playing in his red hair.

"Good morning, General," Art greeted Roy.

"It's afternoon now; didn't you hear the bells?" Roy asked.

Art shook her head and several strands of auburn hair fell into her face. Without missing a beat, Roy took a step forward and gently brushed the hair away.

"Your eyes are prettier when they aren't covered," he said nonchalantly. "Now why did you do it?"

Art blinked for several reasons, then gathered her thoughts and said, "I don't know what you mean."

"Why did you let him kiss you?" Roy demanded bluntly, his voice a little harsher than usual.

"I didn't really have much choice, as you saw," Art said, not wanting to admit her true feelings on the matter. Not to Roy, anyway. "How long were you watching?"

"Long enough." Roy grinned suddenly. "Long enough to see you get a hit on His Highness. Well done!"

Art cringed. "I didn't mean to."

"Funny thing;" Roy pointed out, "he didn't seem to mind."

"I wish he _did _mind," Art grumbled. "It bothers me that he's so nonchalant."

"I shouldn't worry too much," Roy said. "The prince knows when he's injured badly. He would have made some excuse to stop the fight if it was really awful….Why did you never attack _me _with such ferocity? What's so special about His Highness?"

"_You _never kissed me and then mocked me for it," Art pointed out.

Roy noticed that she wasn't really complaining about the kiss. "Maybe I should."

"No!" Art cried and smacked Roy's forearm. "General! Could you imagine how awkward that would be?"

"No need to call me that anymore. Roy will do." He smiled boyishly at her, his eyes twinkling.

Art shrugged. "I don't think so. You're still a general, even if you aren't mine anymore."

Roy scowled a little when she said the last sentence, but then smirked again. "Perhaps someday I will have to call _you _'general.' Maybe one day you'll even surpass me." His eyes sparkled. "But that's not likely."

"Because you know I am so worried about that sort of thing," Art said sarcastically. "Well…" She glanced up at the sky. "I'm actually supposed to go help with the hunt for tomorrow's dinner. I'm terribly sorry, General—"

"Roy," he corrected.

"_General,_" she repeated. "But I have to be going." She started to leave, but then turned around to smile at him again. "You were a good teacher. You know that, right?"

And then she left, leaving a startled boy alone in the courtyard.

**Tadah! And the first fight/love triangle-ish chapter of Inkblot comes to a close!**

**And Roy finally enters the scene! I love that kid. **

**Just to clarify: I know that Roy is actually a prince or something, but you'll see why I made him a general later (it's not just so I make Marth order him around, but that's a lovely bonus too).**

**And in my personal opinion, Marth could have beaten Art fairly easily (especially seeing as he's heavier than her and had a better sword), he just chose not to. He was trying to see what she could do. I'm trying to save the poor guy some face, because I'm planning to have him lose quite a few more fights in the future...Just a warning.**

**Please review! It makes me happy and makes my fingers type faster!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Marth and Roy are not—and never will be—mine. SIGH. Art the archer and General Rein (He pops up for the first time in this chapter) are 100% mine. Yay.**

_**Amazingly **_**special thanks to **_**Nobody**_**, who turned a sucky day into an amazing day with his/her compliment. WOOT! I feel loved! Keep it up! **

**To **_**Secret Stash**_**: thanks for the advice again, but it's not really meant to be all that shocking…There's a bunch that's going to happen after that. You'll just have to wait and see. ;) And about the bowstring thing, we've actually done archery as a gym unit at my school (recipe for disaster, I know) and you actually CAN cut yourself like that. And it really hurts….;_;**

**To **_**Minn:**_** I'm sorry about the lack of Caeda, but that's one of the main reasons I posted this in the SSBB section instead of the FE section. I don't know about Roy, seeing as I've never played his FE games…It's quite possible that he has a girlfriend as well, in which case I'm sorry that they're being left out for the sake of my plot. I'm not entirely sure what happened to them, but it'll hopefully make sense by the end. I'm thinking about having a few SSBB people pop up, so we'll see. I hope you'll keep reading.**

**Things to know: For the sake of introducing a key character, I have created what I call "the council" which is sort of like an advising group for Marth. Sort of the equivalent to the president's congress. Marth can overrule them all unless he's obviously biased on the matter, or every single council member votes for something (there's probably a term for that, but I can't remember…). This will make sense in the upcoming chapters. **

**Chapter 4**

Weeks passed.

Art grew faster and stronger with each day, and soon Marth didn't have to anger her to get her to attack (although he never did risk kissing her again). She still didn't enjoy attacking him; it felt wrong.

Roy was often lingering in the background now, encouraging Art with a confidence that Marth seemed to share, at least, if not voice. That was one thing Art definitely preferred about the general; Roy spoke his mind. For much of the time Marth was coolly silent.

No, he wasn't _silent;_ he just didn't say what he was thinking. Art didn't exactly know what to make of him.

"Good!" the prince praised as Art turned on her heel, positioning herself as Marth leapt forward so that she had a shot at his exposed back. But she didn't let her sword drop this time, and even if she had, Marth had long since figured out a technique to twist out of harm's way.

Roy was sitting in his usual spot on one of the courtyard's stone benches, examining a map. He had insisted on observing Art's training for the past few days and was impressed with her improvement, but he was obviously distracted by something else at the moment.

"That was much better, Art. Good job," Marth said, straightening up and stepping away, indicating that Art could take a break.

Art gratefully let the sword slip from her fingers and massaged her palms, which had grown cramped from being wrapped around the sword hilt for so long. The two trained all afternoon now, and sometimes into the night. Marth had briefly tried to train Art to use a broadsword, but had given up after a few minutes. She simply just couldn't lift the thing properly. He had found that the heaviest thing she could hold properly was a one-and-a-half hand sword (which was what she was practicing with at the moment), although she was still best with the light rapier.

"Can we stop now, Highness?" she pleaded. "I'm exhausted."

"Of course, you should have said so sooner." Marth immediately sheathed Falchion and walked over to Art lithely, obviously feeling no pain or aches. "No injures today?"

He had asked that question ever since their first day of training.

Art paused. "…No."

"If you're going to lie at least_ try_ to make me believe it," Marth snapped. "I know I nicked your shoulder."

"And I know I hit your leg!" Art wrenched her arm away as the prince tried to grab it. "Stop fussing over me! You didn't like it when _I _did it to _you_, so leave me alone!"

The prince frowned. Roy hid a snicker with some difficultly.

"As you wish," Marth said icily. "I shall trust your judgment then."

"Thank you," Art rolled her eyes. Marth shot her a withering look and stalked off.

"You did well today," Roy praised as he walked over to pass Art a warm cloak. Autumn was just starting, and a cool breeze had blown over the castle that morning. "I don't think I have ever seen you that fast with the one-handed sword before. And of course the verbal fireworks are always entertaining and I'll thank you for those as well. Few are bold enough to stand up to the prince."

"Yes, and believe me I wish I wasn't one of them," Art sighed. "I just can't stop it sometimes."

"I wish I were as brave as you," the boy-general said softly.

Art had to laugh. "Me? Brave? Just because I don't like being tended to by princes doesn't mean I'm brave."

"Alright, fine," Roy consented easily with a smile. "Perhaps you are not as brave as me. But you're much sweeter."

"No argument there," Art smirked. "So how have things in the castle been going? I haven't been paying much attention to anything lately other than training, and His Highness doesn't talk about outside things much."

"I've noticed. You should hear him at the council meetings though," Roy said drolly.

"I've never been to those. I'm not a general or a lord or even a lord's lady, so how could I?"

"You could probably become a lord's lady if you wished," Roy teased.

Art laughed and hit Roy's shoulder. She didn't fully understand her relationship with the general, but they had somehow developed a sort of casual intimacy that didn't normally exist between their social classes. Art decided that she liked having someone nice to talk to enough to ignore Roy's occasional romantic remark.

"Thinks have sort of started to go awry in the council though," Roy muttered.

"In what way?" Art asked curiously, wrapping the cloak tightly around her slim frame.

"Well, several of the other generals—not me, obviously—have expressed a concern in His Highness's judgment. I can sort of see their point, he's still young to be a king, but then look at you or me."

"So what are they planning to do?"

"I don't know." Roy shrugged. "Probably nothing. There's not much they can do besides grin and bear it. But General Rein was hinting that the second he had some hard evidence towards some crazy theory of his, he was going to try his hardest to dethrone His Highness and crown himself king. Isn't that ridiculous?"

Roy glanced over and took in Art's pale face.

"Are you cold? I'm sorry; that cloak isn't very thick, is it?"

"Not particularly," Art mumbled. "Just…surprised. Does Prince Marth know?"

"I think so. He's being pretty careful nowadays." Roy shrugged. "You probably don't need to worry."

"I hope so," Art said. "…I am actually getting rather cold now. Could we go inside?"

Roy nodded and started to head inside. They were just about to re-enter the castle when Marth suddenly walked through the very doors they were about to go through.

Art yelped and fell over in surprise.

"Your Highness," Roy said calmly, as if he had expected that to happen.

"Hello General Roy," Marth greeted nonchalantly, barely even looking at Roy as he took in Art sprawled on the ground with a slightly bemused expression. "How did you manage to do that?" He offered a gloved hand to Art and helped her back up. She thought she saw the prince shoot Roy a smug look, but she chalked it up to her imagination. Because her back was to the general, she didn't see his angry flush.

"You startled me," Art said to Math. The ground was harder than she had expected it to be. In fact, it might even almost be cold enough to snow. She noticed that Marth's circlet was almost silver; there was no sunlight for it to catch.

"Why are you still out here without warmer clothes?" Marth asked.

"I honestly wasn't cold until just a little while ago," Art insisted, but Marth had already taken off his white cloak and gently placed it over Art's shoulders, covering the cloak that Roy had given her a moment ago.

"You should get some gloves," he murmured in her ear, and then crossed the courtyard again, presumably walking off towards the council chamber or the library.

"If I had known that you were cold I would have taken you inside right away," Roy said moodily as they walked back into the castle which, frankly, wasn't that much warmer than outside.

"I really wasn't that cold! I am failing to see why the two of you are making such a big deal out of this!" Art said defensively, although secretly she was rather happy that the two of them were concerned enough about her that they had both given her cloaks. She grabbed at the corners of Marth's, for it wasn't clasped. It was much nicer than the plain one Roy had given her. She nuzzled the rabbit fur lining gently.

Roy made a sort of snorting noise. "Enjoying ourselves?"

"I'm just appreciating the fabric," Art lied. "You and I don't exactly have our own fur lined cloaks lying around, do we?"

"Hmm," Roy droned, and then reached over her shoulder to touch the fur. "It is nice, I'll give him that." They walked down the familiar corridor leading to Art's room. He opened the door for her, grinning sarcastically. "My lady?"

Art mimicked an awkward curtsey for him. "Why thank you, General."

"_Roy!_" he corrected impatiently.

"General Roy is as good as you're getting," she told him.

Roy rolled his eyes as she started to close the door. "Make sure to give me my cloak back tomorrow."

"Alright," Art said as the door latched. She walked over to the fireplace and stirred the embers until there was a small fire going again. She put a few more pieces of wood on until there was a large blaze warming the room.

Outside, it started to rain.

**Yay! Roy fluff! Have I mentioned that I love that kid?**

**Sorry it has to stop there. I swear the real plot will start to pick up in the next chapter. Let me know what you think! Questions are appreciated and I will try to answer them to the best of my ability! We're already on chapter 4! **

**BTW, Happy Ramahanakwansmas (try saying THAT five times fast) and a happy new year to all of my readers. :) I might be able to get in one more update before then, but I'm not sure...Apologies in advance if you guys have to wait.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Marth and Roy (neither of whom are actually in this chapter; sorry. ;_;) and Altea itself doesn't belong to me. Art, Rein, and the random soldier who pops up here and is going to disappear forever after this chapter does. Yay!**

**Thanks to **_**Ocotober0Raven **_**for the kind review. Special thanks again to **_**Nobody**_**; and in answer to your question, as of right now I don't plan to have Ike in this (he doesn't talk much anyway and I'm not very familiar with him so…). It's just going to be Marth and Roy and maybe some cameo appearances by random SSBB characters as I see fit. Thanks to **_**Secret Stash**_** for the s and the grammar correction; I went back and edited it. :) And I'll talk more about Rein's theory in the next chapter (I think), so don't worry! And thanks to **_**Minn;**_** please don't worry about offending me. I'll try and answer your questions as best I can. I really appreciate your comments; they give me an idea on what I should improve. I'm thinking about adding a few SSBB characters throughout just to make it a bit more interesting (seeing as it's in the SSBB category), but they probably won't stick around for long. And about Art, I supposed it's possible that she's becoming a bit of a Mary Sue, but I'll try to develop her into something more noteworthy as the story goes on (I'm sorry about the bow/sword thing. ;_;). I think that takes care of everything…:)**

**ONWARD! Read and (hopefully...?) enjoy. **

**Chapter 5**

Art groaned internally. It wasn't quite cold enough to snow, and so it rained. Joy. Quickly the sprinkles picked up until she could hear the raindrops pelting against the cobblestones in the entryway. She and Roy had obviously come in just in time.

She glanced out of her window (which was made of cheap glass) and could sort of make out a warped blue-haired figure walking quickly out of the downpour and up to the royal suite. The suite was located at the top of a tower, and if Art squinted, she could occasionally see vague silhouettes through the glass.

But today it was raining too hard. She couldn't see anything but a light glow.

Just for the fun of it, Art stripped off her tunic and pulled a pale blue, airy gown from her wardrobe and shrugged it on. Its long sleeves fell over her hands and the hem lay on the floor. It felt smooth and nice on her skin. The collar was low, exposing the first of several pale scars that blotched Art's back. She didn't know where the scars had come from; they had been there since before she could remember. She had long since stopped worrying about them.

Art skipped over to the mirror, wincing at the cold temperature of the flagstones beneath her bare feet, and started attempting to pin her hair up out of her eyes. She had cut the whole lot of it off last summer, but now it almost brushed her shoulders. She pulled most of it back, making a small bun, but allowed several strands to remain floating around her face. The final effect was more feminine than she was used to, but she decided that it was nice.

And then she sighed and took the pins out of her hair, letting it fall where it wished. The girl in the mirror looked content now, with bright green eyes and wavy auburn hair that caught the light of the fire and exuded a soft aura. Art always felt so confined when her hair was up, no matter now nice it looked. She picked up Marth's cloak (because it was the warmer of the two) and slung it over her shoulders to keep warm.

Enjoying herself, Art walked over to the window again. Funny; it almost looked like people were walking across the courtyard. Men wearing dark clothing. They walked straight across the grass and up into Prince Marth's tower.

Art shrugged and forced herself to look away. What did it matter? She really shouldn't care about all of this. They were probably just going to consult His Highness about something.

Then she scowled as she remembered Roy's words about General Rein and walked back over to the window again, determined to figure out what was going on.

A sharp rap on her door startled her. With a flick of her wrist, the stiletto knife flashed into her palm.

"My lady?" called a deep voice through the wood. Art frowned; that definitely wasn't Roy. "Are you in there?"

Thoroughly confused now, Art opened the door. "This is she."

A tall lieutenant stood before her. He was wearing a shirt of mail, which was covered by a black tunic with the red Rein crest embroidered on the front. A heavy broadsword hung at his side.

Art caught sight of his weapon and immediately stowed her knife before he could see it. It wouldn't do anything against a broadsword.

"Are you the one called Art?" he asked briskly.

"Yes, I am. How may I help you?" Art said, trying to keep the sarcastic tone out of her voice as she grabbed the cloak to keep it from slipping off her shoulders.

"Were you with Prince Marth this afternoon?"

"Of course. I always am." Art didn't see where the conversation was going.

"Would you consider yourself one of his comrades? Does he confide in you?"

"No, not really. Wherever did you get that idea?" Art guessed that this man had called on her to clear his conscience that she was not courting the prince or anything equally awkward. "He's only training me."

"And why do you think His Highness would use his valuable time training you?"

"I haven't the faintest idea why His Highness does what he does. But I know that it's probably in the best interest of his people," Art said crisply. "Now if you'll excuse me…." She started to close the door, but his gauntleted hand caught it.

"My lady, I would appreciate it if you heard me out."

"What more is there to here?" Art snapped.

The man glared at her. "May I come inside?"

"…Do as you wish," Art said grumpily and stepped back to allow him into her room.

"I notice that you're wearing His Highness's cloak," the man said thoughtfully as he warmed his hands by her fire.

"Yes," Art admitted. "His Highness saw that I was cold after our training and lent it to me."

"Oh…" The man paused. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but your prince was not what he seemed."

"What do you mean?" Art asked coolly, trying to conceal the fact that her heart rate had jumped up._ What was he going on about?_

"The council has ordered him arrested."

Art's eyebrows came together. "On what charges?"

"To the best of my knowledge, he had been accused of treason," the man said calmly. "Please calm yourself, my lady. I have no doubt that he never spoke a word of it to you. You will not be accused."

"There must have been some mistake!" Art cried. "He's been falsely accused! Prince Marth would never betray Altea!" He couldn't!

"I am dreadfully sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Lady Art." The man turned to leave.

Art bit her lip as she looked down at the ground. Any heat that she had felt from the fire was gone now; everything was icy cold.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he went on. "But some thought that he may have confided something in you."

Art nodded, not ready for words yet.

The man shot her a sympathetic look that she didn't see, and then turned and left.

Art clutched her dress as she waited for the man's footsteps to melt into the hiss of the rain outside, and the second she couldn't discern one from the other she ran from the room, trying to keep her emotions under control as she dashed down the hallways.

There was someone she had to see.

**I apologize for the lameness of this chapter. I wrote it totally off the top of my head. Don't hate me…;_;**

**And with that cliffhanger (that's not really a cliffhanger…); I must bid you all adieu for awhile. Going on Christmas vacation in a few days and I shall not have access to a computer there; and I'm swamped with last minute school projects until then. I'll be back just after New Years, so I'll start uploading again! Please don't give up on me! **_**I'll be back!**_** (You have to imagine that last line said with a Terminator accent). **

**Please review! Don't be shy about asking questions!**

**Happy Ramahanakwansmas and Merry Festivus (the holiday for the rest of us) and Happy New Year! ;) **


	6. Chapter 6

**A Happy New Year to you all! Only 1 more year to go before 2012! Woot!**

**I said I'd be back, and here I am. Hopefully you haven't forgotten about me and will continue to read. ;)**

**Disclaimer: Marth, Roy and Altea don't belong to me (sadly). However, General Rein, Art, and General Ward who only pops up for one brief and shining moment all do. Yay!**

**Thanks to**_** Secret Stash **_**for standing up for my lame little chapter. XD Don't worry, there won't be many ones like that; I try to keep the dialogue interesting. Thanks to **_**Nobody**_** as well (I love you guys.); I had a very good Christmas break and hope everyone else did as well. Unfortunately, the guy that Art was talking to in the last chapter wasn't Rein (he was just a random guy who doesn't even have a name XD), but Rein pops up for the first time in this one, so….**

**Things to know: This seems pretty obvious, but I'm going to mention it in case people don't know; Marth's last name is Lowell. As the story goes on, I'll mention his middle name, but I just made that up. XD I don't think he really has a middle name, although seeing as he's king he probably should….The point is, in this story his name is Marth Rhys (pronounced like 'Rise') Lowell. There you be. :)**

**Read and enjoy! (And then please review! It makes me happy!)**

**Chapter 6**

"Roy!" Art bellowed, slamming both fists against his closed door. "General Roy! Open the door! Please!" Her voice was tinged with more hysteria than she would have liked to admit, and her eyes were tearing up despite her best attempts to hide it.

The door suddenly flew open and Art staggered forward, off balance, almost running into Roy. The general's bright hair was rumpled, as if he had been asleep. Before he had time to fully realize who was standing on his doorstep, Art gave into her impulses and flung herself into his arms, suppressing a sob.

"Art?" he asked, gently tilting her teary face up to look at his. "I hardly recognized you. You look beautiful; I don't understand why you refuse to wear dresses more often." He frowned a little. "What's the matter, Art?"

"It—it's…" She paused to collect herself. "It's the prince. I was just told that he's been arrested! That he is going to be charged with treason!"

Roy scowled. "No." He took her arm, gently leading her into his room. "That's not true." Art looked up hopefully as he helped her sit down in a chair. "It's not possible."

Art's face fell. He obviously hadn't heard about it. "It_ is_ possible, Roy! I think it's already happened! Those men I saw…" Art blinked, finally realizing the intent of the men she had seen crossing the courtyard.

"What men?" Roy demanded. "I have heard nothing…"

"_Rein's_ men!" Art cried. "The man who told me that His Highness had been arrested was one of Rein's! And the men who I saw going up to His Highness's suite were Rein's too. It must have been Rein's doing! You said it yourself that Rein was planning to do something and _this is it!_"

"Art, you're not making much sense. I don't understand." Roy attempted to smooth his hair back, but gave up after a few minutes and just tied it out of his face with a bandana as per the usual. "Walk with me. We will go to the council. If the prince really has been arrested, they must convene soon, and they'll be able to explain what's going on."

"But I'm not allowed into the council," Art protested as Roy stepped out into the hallway and beckoned for her to follow him.

"I can say that you're my second for the day, how's that?" Roy blurted, a touch of nervousness coming across in his voice. "Now what about those men? What did you see? What did the man say?"

Art blinked, started by his sudden questions. "I saw five or six men going up to His Highness's chambers through my window. I know they were Rein's because they were wearing black, and he's the only general with black as one of his colors."

"If it was only five or six then the prince could beat them in a fight," Roy said.

"Not if he was being legally accused of treason," Art pointed out. "If he attacked them that would just make things worse. Rein would be able to call him a tyrant. He must submit."

"Even then, there's no way that the council is going to vote him guilty in a trial," Roy argued. "They're honor bound to support him. Go on."

Art wasn't as sure as the general. It seemed that something big had been set in motion that neither she, Roy, nor the prince himself had noticed. "I was watching those men in the courtyard when a man knocked on my door," she continued. Roy was walking quickly and Art almost had to jog to keep up with his strides. "This one was definitely Rein's because he bore Rein's crest. He started asking me questions about where I was this morning. I think he was trying to see if I was involved in whatever treachery they are accusing His Highness of."

"Then it's a good thing you gave them the correct answers," Roy smirked. "You'd be in much more trouble than His Highness if you were arrested. At least he has his title to protect him."

"I feel so blessed," Art grumbled, not wanting to be distracted by Roy's attempts to cheer her up. "The man told me that I obviously didn't have anything to do with His Highness's treason, but that was about it. He wasn't very specific at all."

Roy skirted the main courtyard in favor of the covered corridors; it was still raining lightly. "That complicates things. If we don't know exactly what happened, then we can't do much to stop it." They arrived at the thick wooden doors that were engraved with ancient runes, signifying the council chambers. There were four burly guards posted to either side of the door and they scowled darkly as Roy and Art approached.

"You," one said as he looked at Roy. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Well that's funny," Roy growled. "Seeing as I _am_ still a _general_. I don't see why I shouldn't be here, so unless you have a good reason, you need to let me in."

The guards scowled and didn't open the door. One pointed at Art. "The girl can't go in."

"She's my second," Roy said.

Their beady eyes widened. "A _female?_ Your second?"

"For the love of God _yes!_" Roy threw his hands in the air. "Are you honestly as slow as you look? LET. US. IN!"

And they did, albeit with much grumbling and harsh looks.

Roy stomped into the chamber, letting the doors bang shut behind him. All conversation immediately ceased.

"General Roy!" someone shouted. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"People keep telling me that," Roy muttered. "I don't understand _why_ though, seeing as I'm still a _general!_"

Several people scowled at the man's outburst.

"What we mean to say, General," another man said smoothly. Art recognized him as General Ward. "Is that we have already convened the meeting and you were not here and thus…"

"I wasn't aware that there_ was_ a meeting."

"Well, that's not our fault, is it?"

Roy fumed silently and took his seat. Art assumed the traditional second's black behind his chair. Roy sighed heavily, and then said resignedly, "Well, I am here _now_, so we can start."

The various generals and lords looked angry, and none of them had said a word to Art, who was still wearing Marth's warm cloak. Slowly they all started their side conversations again, totally ignoring Roy.

"HEY!" Roy yanked a small dagger from his belt and slammed it into the table, getting everyone's attention. "Where's the prince? Isn't that why we're here? Because _someone,_"—he glared furiously at General Rein, who had remained out of the conversation thus far and was lounging in his usual spot two chairs down from Marth's empty throne—"Decided to accuse the prince of something we all know he didn't do?"

"How do you know he did not do it?" Rein asked softly, drawing his dark cloak over his shoulders as he crossed thick arms over a broad chest. General Rein was an intimidating man; mostly sticking to dark fabrics that emphasized his dark hair that was cropped close to his head for convenience. His eyes were a steely grey and unnerving to look at directly.

"BECAUSE HE IS WHO HE IS!" Roy exploded. "HE'S A LOWELL! HE IS OUR KING!"

Everyone shrank back a little in their seats at his shouting and began to shoot glances from side to side.

"What if he said himself that he did it?" General Rein asked quietly.

"What did he even _do?_" Roy demanded.

"He'll tell you," Rein said grimly.

"There's no way he'd confess to something he didn't so!" Roy screamed. "It's not who he is! Tell us what you've accused him of and then let him speak for himself! AT LEAST HAVE THE COURAGE TO TELL US WHAT YOU SAY HE HAS DONE!"

"I am_ telling_ you that if you ask him, he will admit to his crime," Rein smiled. "Would you like to speak with him?"

Roy sank numbly back into his seat, tightly gripping the arms of his chair. "Is he available?" he managed to choke.

"If you would like him to be." The older general was examining his fingernails with casual interest, not meeting Roy's eyes.

Roy looked up at Art for her opinion, but saw that her face was completely washed of color, making the prince's cloak look dark by comparison. Roy's stomach twisted a little when he finally noticed that she was still wearing the cloak draped over the dress that he thought was so beautiful on her.

"Bring him in," the boy-general finally sighed, bracing himself for what was to come.

**And that's all I got….It's New Year's Day, I'm brain-dead. XD**

**I give you General Rein. I found him kind of hard to write, so forgive his lines if they sound bad. ;_;**

**Did anyone notice that Art's stopped adding the 'General' before Roy's name? Whatever could that mean? ;P There was a bit of Roy-fluff in this one, and I sort of accidentally switched to his perspective at the end….Oh well. If you guys like the perspective thingy, maybe I'll switch more often. **

**Anywaaaay….Forgive the cheesiness of this chapter. **

**Please review and keep reading! **


	7. Chapter 7

******Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Roy and Marth do not belong to me. (cue heavy sigh) They belong to their respective creators Nintendo. However, General Rein, Art the Archer, General Ward (who was brought back for another brief and shining moment) and Lord Adams (who is here for his first brief and shining moment) do belong to me. Hoorah.**  


**Special thanks to RedHawk2.0 for the awesome review. I intend to keep this writing as long as people are interested, so please don't be shy about reviewing! ;) **

**(I apologize in advance for any character OOC-ness. For whatever reason I had a hard time writing this chapter. ;_;)**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 7**

Art fiddled with the sleeve of her dress as Roy gave the order for Marth to be brought in. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do; part of her wanted to leave the room quietly while she could, while the other part wanted to stay and help as much as she could. She didn't know which side was winning.

The room was cold, she noticed. It had a large fireplace, but nothing was lit. It was just the torches lining the walls, and those didn't give off much heat at all. She was grateful of Marth's thick cloak and wondered absently if she'd ever get the chance to give it back to him…But that thought was ridiculous. Of course she could give it back. What was the worst that could happen?

"Roy?" she whispered to the boy-general, pitching her voice so that not even Lord Adams, on Roy's left, could hear.

"Yes?" Roy answered quietly.

"What do you think he could have done?"

Roy hardly needed to ask who she meant by 'he.' "I don't know. We will just have to wait and find out, right?"

"Do you think he did whatever they're accusing him of?" Art asked nervously.

Roy leaned back in his chair, his expression one of a person who no longer is sure what to believe. "I don't know that either, Art." His blue eyes hardened a little as he glared at General Rein, who was still lounging in his chair. "Look at him. He's got them all where he wants them. He must have pulled some big strings. I suppose it's no mystery why nothing of this meeting was said to me."

"What do you mean?" Art asked, trying to distract herself from an awful sinking feeling that was growing stronger by the second.

"I argue with the prince a lot," Roy admitted ruefully, "But when push comes to shove, I'm probably the most devoted general out of all of us here, not to toot my own horn or anything."

Art nodded. It was true. Everyone in the council besides herself and Roy seemed to have no qualms about accusing their own king. She couldn't picture them doing something like that lightly.

And unwelcome vision intruded into her head; all the council members, including herself and Roy, wrapped in string like puppets, and Rein and Marth were fighting over the strings. She shuddered at the thought of what would happen if Rein assumed control of the kingdom.

Suddenly, the heavy council doors creaked open. A brawny man stepped through, wearing Rein's crest. Art scowled. What had happened to all of Marth's men? Had they all abandoned him? Her hands clenched beneath the folds of the gossamer fabric. _She_ wouldn't leave her kingdom without good reason.

Another man stepped through the door, and then Prince Marth stumbled through. He stumbled because the second man had a strong grip on his elbow and had practically yanked him through the doorway. Marth looked furious.

Art breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that his hands were unbound. And why would they be? He wasn't convicted, and he was still royalty. She wasn't sure why she had been worried.

"What's the meaning of this?" Roy exclaimed, barely keeping his voice to a reasonable level as Rein's man propelled Marth to his chair at the end of the table and proceeded to stand ominously behind it with his partner once the prince had sat down. Art noticed that his pale face was flushed, and couldn't decide if that was because he was embarrassed, angry, or just because he had been in the cold corridors.

"You said you wished to ask him something," General Rein said quietly. Marth shot the older general a look that Art couldn't quite place. "Ask away."

For a moment Roy was speechless, and then he looked over at Marth hesitantly. "Highness?"

"Yes." It may have just been Art's imagination, but she thought that Marth looked shaken. But by what?

"General Rein says…." Roy began slowly. Too slowly, in Art's opinion.

"General Rein has been hinting at some heinous crime of yours," she blurted. "What have you done, if anything?"

His face went ashen, but he tried to disguise it with a strained smile. "Art, why are you here?"

"You were asked a question," Rein growled.

"And I am still the prince, so I can choose not to answer it," Marth retorted coolly. "You haven't taken that right from me yet."

"Yet?" Art asked nervously.

"The girl is General Roy's second," General Ward supplied.

Marth leaned back in his chair at the head of the table. "Oh. I wasn't aware of that change."

"It was a sudden decision," Roy said tightly.

Marth looked down at the floor for a moment, then he looked back up at Art. "You look…different than what I'm used to. You should wear dresses most often."

Art blinked. She had almost completely forgotten that she was wearing something out of her usual wardrobe.

"Speaking of flattery," Roy said dryly. "You seem to have people literally hanging on your very person." He was glaring at the two men hovering over Marth's chair. "It must be nice to be so adored."

"Yes, I noticed that as well," Marth said, equally sarcastic. "It's not as nice as you'd think."

Rein scowled. "The girl has asked you a question, Highness. Perhaps you should answer it for her."

Marth shot a furious glare at him.

"Evidence has come forward," Rein said, throwing a piece of paper onto the large table. Marth flinched away from it, but Art was the only one who noticed his movement. "That you have committed an act that, had someone else committed it, would be regarded as treasonous. Due to the nature of this, the council has decided to investigate, and has decided that perhaps Altea will no longer be ruled by the Lowell family."

"That's ridiculous!" Roy said, but he was already reaching for the paper.

"Read it out loud," Rein suggested.

Roy scowled, but then his face paled as he skimmed the paper. "_'To the Gra Council: As specified in our previous correspondence letters, I believe that a merge _would_ be beneficial to all of us. You may have the eastern fields and shipyards on the Altean coastline. Of course, you will be allowed total control; it will be annexed into your own country. There is only a score of men there; you will be able to take it…'_" he trailed off miserably, and looked up at the prince with an awful expression on his face. "…You wrote this?" he whispered.

Before Marth could answer, Adams spoke up, "Read the rest, General."

Roy held up the sheet of paper again, his face grim. Marth's eyes were firmly fixed on the opposite wall as the general spoke.

"_'You will be able to take it with minimal loss to yourselves and minimal loss to the Altean people. In return for these lands, I expect you to pay me well in the gold and silver amounts we talked about earlier.'_" Roy's voice wavered a little as he read. "_'There was once a time when I would not accept your offer, but since the monetary value has been raised, I can no longer resist. Perhaps we can do more business in the future?'_…"

Roy's face was a mask as he shoved the letter away from himself as if it had burned him. "Your signature's on it, Highness. Do you deny writing this?"

Marth turned his gaze towards the wall on his left, avoiding all eye contact with everyone at the table.

"Do you deny it?" Roy asked, his voice suddenly quiet, almost pleading.

Art held her breath, waiting for the answer.

The prince took a breath, shooting a desperate glare sideways, but Art couldn't figure out who he was looking at.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he looked down at the floor and whispered three words, his voice thick with an emotion that Art couldn't place.

"I do not."

**Well that was interesting, wasn't it?**

**I must confess that when I initially wrote the first draft of this thing, I was extremely vague about what Marth was getting in trouble for, but I went back literally ten-minutes ago and rewrote the majority of the whole thing, so now it's more interesting, hopefully….But my point was that I wrote this all almost completely on the fly. I think I caught all the mistakes, but let me know if I missed anything. **

**The plot also starts to majorly pick up here, so….yay! **

**Anyway, I hope you liked it. More will follow ASAP. (And even sooner if you **_**review**_**—wink wink) And I apologize in advance if I don't get to update until next week. I have a huge school project that I keep procrastinating on, and I might end up having to spend the entire weekend working on it. ;_; Sorry! I'll get back to this ASAP!**


	8. Oops?

**I've mentioned this in my other SSBB fanfic, **_**The Game**_**, but I'm should probably mention it formally here; Inkblot is being put on temporary hold while I sort of some plot issues (the bunny is **_**not**_** cooperating, to say the least). I'm so sorry to everyone who's waiting; I'll update as soon as I get things worked out, but forgive me if there's a wait. Don't lose hope! Jeez….my life needs a pause button or something. It doesn't help that the plot-bunny decides to get rabies or whatever went wrong with it the same week as my youth group retreat and _finals _(AUGH!) week…oi vey. But I'm so sorry for any inconvenience. I'll be back with this project ASAP, I swear!**

**While I'm here; another thanks to **_**Diagon the Uber Lord of Lawlz**_** for all of the detailed reviews. I actually watched a rapier fight on youtube and then went back to edit that chapter. Please let me know if I messed anything else up! XD Sorry….I'll try to do better. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. **

**Another big thanks to **_**Kikifoo**_** (I love your username; it's just fun to say out loud) for the awesome review, and I'm sorry that you happened to start in right as I hit problems. I've got about half…maybe…of the next chapter written up, so I'll post that soon. Another apology if you thought that this was the next chapter and got all excited for nothing. There's a chance I'll be back up and posting for this sometime next week (seeing as my retreats tend to get me focused again), so I hope you won't have to wait too long. **

**P.S. You'll just have to wait and see who Art ends up with. ;)**

**Again, I'm sorry for the delay. I hope that it'll be worth it, and I'll be able to come back with lots of improvements and such. Hopefully I won't keep you waiting long. **

**I'M SORRY! *bows* ;_; Don't hate me!**


End file.
